


Sins Of The Father

by Eerie_Eliseo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Incest, But Han's okay with that, Double incest, F/M, He gets it, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, In that the interrogation scene is arguably torture, Incest, M/M, Past Infidelity, Twincest, is 'double incest' a tag?, parental incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15586719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eerie_Eliseo/pseuds/Eerie_Eliseo
Summary: No Force could separate them, no distance could dim the bond, nothing could break them apart from each other. Common sense told them it would never work, they agreed, yet, here they were.The story of Luke and Leia's twins, Ben and Rey, and how actions can repeat across generations.





	Sins Of The Father

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for the SW Kink Meme, based on this prompt: https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/5817.html?thread=11998137#cmt11998137
> 
> "Based on that deleted scene where after Luke hand-blocks Rey and Kylo, he yells at Rey over almost going to the dark side for a pair of "pretty eyes". Yes Luke, you sure know lots about your blood relatives and how pretty their eyes are...."

There were wardrums in Leia’s eyes from the moment Luke met her, an untamed fire in the brown that burned into him. She drew him into her orbit and never let go even after he had tried to pull away. He’d been trying to pull away from the moment he realized they were siblings, from the moment he realized that even knowing that he _still_ wanted to kiss her again. Jedi weren’t meant to have attachments, but she attached him to herself with a single kiss and eyes that burned into his no matter how many planets and stars he placed between them. No Force could separate them, no distance could dim the bond, nothing could break them apart from each other. Common sense told them it would never work, they agreed, yet, here they were. Inevitably, they ended up in one another’s presence. Han gave up pretending to be surprised and just shrugged off Luke’s presence in his household after he’d married Leia. The arrangement was so natural, so right, that they could all ignore the uncomfortable past and the kiss Leia had planted on Luke back on the Falcon.

That single kiss became many, one night when Han was away. The ferocious, commanding presence Luke so thoroughly adored turned soft and loving, love smothering in its’ intensity. He understood after that that Han’s absences were to keep from being burned by Leia’s heated embrace. Luke had no idea how many times they made love over the course of a single night, her hands clasped in his, fingers interlocking, grip firm as her brown eyes gazed into his, centering him so perfectly in the moment that no past or future seemed to exist, no Masters or Jedi Orders or consequences or mornings after. There were only blue and brown eyes, a tickle of a beard against her breast, soft fingers rubbing soothing patterns into his back. Touch and color and texture blotted out all else. There could be no tomorrow they couldn’t face, he thought, with her hand in his.

That tomorrow came all the same.

She had twins. The Force screamed at Luke to keep Rey away from Ben, yelled at him over the sound of Leia’s wardrum eyes and Han’s siren-blaring glare. He found a young couple on Jakku, scrap traders, good people with a stable little home, and they were honored to take in the daughter of _the_ Luke Skywalker, so honored they obeyed his wish not to inquire about her mother. The couple taught Rey to speak many languages, to put her hair up, to identify metal. Away from talk of Skywalkers and Solos and any rumor of incest or how Han had not been with Leia for eleven months before the birth of the twins, she could grow up without shame. That was the only way Leia could forgive Luke for his transgression: he was keeping her safe not merely from the Dark Side but from himself. She could see the love in his actions.

Leia slapped Luke when he suggested moving Ben in a similar manner. Ben was hers, had been hers the second he was born, and Luke fell in love and fell away from the Light and stumbled away from Leia all in the same moment. Her eyes were piercing, angry, haunting, and he knew that to do wrong by Ben would be the one thing he could do that would end the bond between them. She could allow one child to grow up away from her, but two was too much. Ben instinctively curled into her arms almost as soon as he could move. The Force didn’t want them together and Leia didn’t want to hear it. Torn between serving it or his sister, he looked at the vast power connecting every being in the galaxy together and turned away in favor of her. Han didn’t pretend to be surprised, clapping Luke on the back and promising they’d make it work. He put no stock in the Force despite having seen it work miracles. All Ben needed was Solo know-how and Organa stubbornness and he’d be fine, Han reasoned, and Luke wanted to believe him so badly he convinced himself that he did.

Somewhere underneath all of that, though, there was the soft, steady thrum of the Dark Side, beating like a pulse, so quiet and gentle as to go unnoticed. Really, they shouldn’t have been surprised when things went awry. Ben’s powers outgrew his ability to control at an alarming rate as Jakku’s entire system’s economy tanked, making communication difficult. One child was a shuttle visit away and unreachable, the other was vast oceans of stars away and unknown. They drifted away. They drifted as Leia tried to stabilize Jakku from afar, as Luke tried to get Ben to meditate from an arm’s length away. A sort of dull panic seized Luke in the night with increasing frequency as the children aged, making him reach out in the Force, looking for them. Rey was a sunlight’s glimmer on sand, a flash of white in the beige, almost imperceptible. Ben was a comet’s fleeting light, ducking into the dark, hiding in secretive, safe places behind and beyond all starlight.

Ben’s eyes were Leia’s eyes, only darker; they were framed by eyelashes not unlike hers, by eyebrows that furrowed at him like hers, by lips that parted slightly when he inhaled to fire back at him like she did. But oh, his eyes were darker in a way undefined by color. They watched his movements with too keen an interest, his hands with too sharp a flicker, breath sucked in as he imagined things he successfully kept in his head. He locked Luke out of his mind early on only to be betrayed by the way his eyes widened slightly when Luke corrected his lightsaber stance from behind, by the way his starless night eyes gazed into Luke’s when they were alone. He never said anything. Much like his mother, what he wanted conveyed, he conveyed by reaching forward at the age of fourteen, snagging Luke by the collar and hauling him in for a kiss.

Much like with Leia, Luke pulled away and didn’t quite believe himself when he said he didn’t feel anything towards Ben. Ben didn’t put on the pretense of believing him any more than Han had put on a pretense of believing in the Force. He canted his hips in such a way as to block the door, folded his arms and tilted his head at his uncle, every inch of his body language screaming _Leia_ so loudly Luke dreamed of his sister afterwards. That was not as bad as the dreams of Ben that followed, of Ben, who had never looked like Han, Ben, who would doubtless not take no for an answer, Ben, who reminded Luke not of Leia most days but of Anakin Skywalker. He wanted to save him and be rid of him, kiss him and run from him, in equal measure, and the chaos drove him to get up one fateful night to try to look into Ben's mind with the Force for answers.

When he saw the depths, the violent raging volcanoes of Darkness and resentment boiling within his son, his first thought was, _‘Finally, I have an excuse to kill him and be done with this.’_

There were years of guilty thoughts afterwards, of wondering if he’d placed the thoughts into Ben’s head somehow and caused him to be attracted to him, of considering seriously if Ben’s true parentage had been why he was drawn to Luke and if they shouldn’t have realized Jedi training was therefore, from the start, a terrible idea. Luke thought his every action preceding igniting his lightsaber over endless times after that night. He laid awake trying to conceive of when Ben’s interest in him had changed, when his looks had gotten the same longing in them Leia’s had, when the first warning sign was. He made himself sick trying to assign blame and finding nowhere to put it other than on himself. He tried countless times to ask Yoda why. He asked himself why. Why couldn't he have given into Ben instead, or sent him back to Leia, or had Han come whisk the boy off to the farthest reaches of the galaxy? The roar of his own shame would grow to a cacophony that would render him unable to recall what the call of the Force sounded like again for a long, long time.

That night there were only Ben’s eyes as they shed tears burned away by the heat of the fires he set to the entire compound, leaving ashes and bodies in his wake, ripping apart the children Luke loved the way a father _should_ love his children. The betrayal tore whatever Light was in Ben out of him, carried him far away, into the deepest, safest darkness he could find, far away from Luke and far away, in theory, from the weaknesses of love or attraction.

Ben’s attraction to Rey started when he had her tied down because she could not wound him in that moment the way Luke had that night. She couldn’t lash out at him when he let his guard down. Rey had been struck down for having those lapses in defense many times in her life. She had been regarded as a threat first and a person second before, and hated it; she could have wanted him dead, in turn, for doing that to her. What surprised him, threw him off balance, was that she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to kill him, didn’t even want to hurt him, after all the things he put her through. There was simply too much Light in her, a defiant brightness like a moon on a cloudy night forcing light down to a planet’s surface. The galaxy itself had tried to break her so many times that she can see the wear and tear of it on similar people. He had never been decent to her, yet her hatred was directed at whoever dropped her off on Jakku, at parents she was not sure she remembered who caught a shuttle out without saying why, at a Force that saved people in the stories people told around campfires without saving her. He knew that ache, that eternal _why me_ that the galaxy responded to with silence.

“Don’t be afraid. I feel it too.”

She breathed out and breathed in his thoughts. He feared everyone, trusted no one, expected them to turn on him, from the droids to the Supreme Leader, waited for loyalty to be repaid in anger. She saw the many times he stayed awake pacing at night demanding the Force give him answers, tell him what he did wrong, although that first time they looked into each other’s eyes she didn’t see what happened. All she knew was that he felt thrown away and hurt. Rey was not a cruel person. She could relate to being discarded scrap trying to pass itself off as prized latinum. She knew what it was to be too paranoid to sleep, too anxious to eat, too tired to keep going and then having to go on anyway. No one with any common sense would forgive him, but common sense was not what Rey let guide her. She listened to something deeper within her, something rooted so innately into her it surpassed the Force itself in influence. Someday, she knew, they were destined to be together. No Force could separate them, no distance could dim the bond, nothing could break them apart from each other. Common sense told them it would never work, they agreed, yet, here they were.

They ripped away from each other and threw up walls to try to fight it regardless. He resolved to _make_ himself a monster to her before she could get close enough to bleed him out. The last time he thought he was in love it nearly cost him his life. He knew it was the way his grandfather had fallen from power, something that had nearly killed him, as well. They parted on the worst terms he could manage to create. Somehow, that was not enough to suffice, not enough to kill their bond. The Force refused to take the hint. And so they dreamt of each other, his dark eyes the coal underneath the fire that’s slowly going to burn him up until he self-destructs, hers the hazel-green of vegetation, life, renewal, of that which has survived in the desert.

When Ben had the horrifying thought he couldn’t block her out, it was every bit as confusing, frustrating and oddly relieving to him as it was for Luke with Leia. Thank the Force, he was not alone – damn the Force, he was not going to let himself be caught unaware again. He told himself this again and again as she talked her way through his defenses. She was shade at high noon, water after a drought, there are cool moss covered ponds in her eyes he could fall into, drown out the wardrums of the Dark Side. She was unafraid of him. At most, fire can boil water, but it could never fully destroy it.

And Ben, like their father before them, yielded, and Rey, like their mother before them, had her hand outstretched and waiting when he did.


End file.
